


I'm Not a Mind-Reader (Class Idiot, Remember?)

by butterfly_wings



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Post-Canon, and karma is infuriating, ft a bag of chips, overuse of parenthesis, terasaka is kinda oblivious, there's mentions of other assclass characters too btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:48:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25836748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterfly_wings/pseuds/butterfly_wings
Summary: “Oh, so you and Itona weren’t hiding from me?” Karma asks. “Because I could have swore that was exactly what you two were doing.”“Itona doesn’t have a reason to hide from you,” Terasaka says.“But you do.” Karma steps forward. “Don’t you?”Terasaka scowls. “Not everything revolves around you.” He pauses, then adds, “Bastard.”“Oh, we’re back to insults,” Karma drawls, almost rolling his eyes. He pushes Terasaka back, walking forward until Terasaka’s back hits the concrete wall. “Real creative, Terasaka.”“What do you want?” Terasaka asks.Karma looks at him. “You tell me,” he says.In which Terasaka just wanted some chips, but instead he has to figure out what's going on in Karma's head instead.
Relationships: Akabane Karma/Terasaka Ryouma, Hazama Kirara/Kurahashi Hinano, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 54





	I'm Not a Mind-Reader (Class Idiot, Remember?)

Terasaka really doesn’t see Karma much. Not after Kunigaoka, and the mess of class 3-E. They have their own priorities, their own lives to sort out. So he can reminisce (“Don’t use that word, I’m not some fair maid, Hazama; shut up.” “Oh, no, you totally are.”) all he wants about Karma and their shared kiss (two, his mind reminds him unhelpfully), but it’s not like he actually has to see Karma, and, you know, deal with the consequences. 

Coward, he thinks. But that’s fine. He doesn’t have many ambitions (well, actually, he has some ideas, but they feel somewhat far-fetched, but Koro-sensei would have supported him, so…), and anyways Karma is likely to rise so high that Terasaka will be lucky to say, “He was in my class, once.” Really, the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that whatever may have happened on that mountain was a fluke. It’s not like there’s going to be a repeat performance of that day (or that year. What’s done is done). Terasaka should just move on. After all, he’s young, he’s fit, he has his friends, and he ought to make something of himself for once. Class 3-E gave him the second chance he never thought he’d get. 

It’s just, sometimes…

Sometimes…

He wonders if there could have been something between him and Karma. 

It’s all ridiculous thoughts, of course. Nonsensical. Even if Karma had kissed him back that one time, he’d also left right after, and told him not to think about it. So it meant nothing, and the sooner Terasaka can get that through his head the sooner he’ll have peace from Karma Akabane and his golden eyes and his flame red hair and his sharp smile. 

Assuming, you know, Karma actually leaves the random convenience store that he and Itona had _also_ happened to visit at the exact. same. time. 

(What are the odds of this even happening, he wonders. Who did he offend to have this happen to him). 

“And we’re hiding behind the snack aisle why?” Itona whispers to him. 

“Shut up,” Terasaka mutters. “You know exactly why.” 

“It’s just Karma,” Itona mumbles back, but he ducks down a little further. 

“I don’t want to see him,” Terasaka grumbles. “His face is stupid.” 

“I’m sure that’s exactly what the problem is,” Itona tells him, mirth playing in his eyes and a smile playing on his lips. Curse him for being so knowledgeable. “If you’re going to hide, do you mind if—” 

“Ehhhhh?” Karma’s stupid, surprised drawl floats overhead and Terasaka wants to punch everyone and everything. “Why are you two crouched down here?” 

“Snacks,” Itona says, having the presence of mind to stand up. He holds up a box of spicy crackers as proof. “Hey, Karma.” 

“Hi, Itona,” Karma says, his mouth curled into a smirk. Terasaka wants to wipe it off of him. Smug bastard. “Hi, Terasaka. Been a while since I’ve seen you two. Where are the other three idiots?” 

“Hazama’s not an idiot,” Itona says in his usual deadpan. “I’m going to buy this.” He gestures vaguely at his crackers once more and walks away, presumably to the cash register. 

Terasaka glares up at Karma. Karma stares back, face impressively blank. Silence stretches between them. 

“…are you just going to stay there?” Karma asks after the silence has become more awkward than anything else. “You don’t know what’s been on that floor.” 

Terasaka scowls but gets up anyways. “What do you want?” 

“Huh?” Karma places a hand over his heart (what an over-dramatic bastard, Terasaka thinks) and gasps in mock hurt. “Am I not allowed to say hello to my old classmates? And here I thought we had something, Terasaka.” 

“If you mean hatred, then you’re right,” Terasaka remarks, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking away. He looks around at the variety of snacks, wondering what he should even grab. 

“We sat right next to each other for an entire year,” Karma says. “Traded jokes and notes and I even helped you on your homework a few times. Did that mean nothing to you?” 

“You were a nuisance, and I’m glad that I no longer have to see your stupid face every day.” Terasaka turns away and snags a bag of shrimp chips. Karma steps back into his field of vision. 

“That’s not what it seemed like last month,” Karma drawls, pressing into Terasaka’s space. “In fact, I could have swore you actually liked me.” 

“You were mistaken.” Terasaka pushes past him and starts making his way to the register. “Besides, weren’t you the one who said not to think about it?” 

“So you have been thinking about it.” Karma’s grinning as Terasaka stomps up to the cashier. Terasaka does his best to ignore him as he hands his chips to the cashier. “By the way—” Karma tosses an ice pop onto the counter. “Throw this in too.” 

“I’m not pay—” Terasaka starts, but Karma holds up a hand. 

“I’ll pay. For both.” Karma takes out his wallet and hands the cashier some yen. “Here’s your chips.” He passes the bag to Terasaka before unwrapping his ice pop and sticking it his mouth. “Shall we?” 

Terasaka, confused, follows him out. 

It’s quiet outside, the semi-reformed moon shining down below. There’s no one outside. 

“Did Itona abandon me?” Terasaka hisses, and he pulls out his phone to check. 

Sure enough, there’s a text from Itona. “Have fun on your not-date,” it reads. “Don’t do anything stupid. See you tomorrow.” 

Terasaka scowls and shoves his phone back into his pocket, cursing under his breath. 

“I take it he abandoned you?” Karma interrupts his furious muttering. He’s got one hand shoved lazily in his pocket, that stupid ice pop in the other, and he’s looking right at Terasaka as if he can see everything, those golden eyes piercing through his soul. 

Terasaka swallows. “Yeah.” He doesn’t know why, but something about seeing Karma like this, here, in an unplanned moment, after Karma just bought him chips, unnerves him. 

It’s just not what they do.

He has to say something, before the silence becomes unbearable. 

“Thanks for the chips,” he adds. 

Karma licks a long slow stripe up his ice pop, his tongue red against the blue ice, his eyes laser focused on Terasaka. A shiver runs up Terasaka’s spine, and he tries not to dwell on that. 

“No problem,” Karma says, smirking, his gaze still on Terasaka, mischief dancing in his eyes. 

Bastard. Bitch-sensei taught them all sorts of ways to seduce. Karma knows _exactly_ what he’s doing, and Terasaka would be lying if he said that he wasn’t completely aware of that. 

As for the why, Terasaka doesn’t have a clue. So he elects to ignore it. 

“Did you want to talk?” Terasaka asks. “Any reason for buying me chips?” 

“Terasaka, when have I _ever_ had ulterior motives?” Karma asks, pouting just enough to be considered cute, if it wasn’t for the fact that it was, well, Karma. 

“As if I didn’t tell you to use me,” Terasaka replies. “As if we didn’t spend a year arguing and mocking each other. As if—” 

“—We hadn’t kissed in our classroom?” Karma asks. 

“So it’s about that, huh?” Terasaka snorts. “It doesn’t matter, Karma.” 

“Oh, so you and Itona _weren’t_ hiding from me?” Karma asks. “Because I could have swore that was exactly what you two were doing.” 

“Itona doesn’t have a reason to hide from you,” Terasaka says.

“But you do.” Karma steps forward. “Don’t you?” 

Terasaka scowls. “Not everything revolves around you.” He pauses, then adds, “Bastard.”

“Oh, we’re back to insults,” Karma drawls, almost rolling his eyes. He pushes Terasaka back, walking forward until Terasaka’s back hits the concrete wall. “Real creative, Terasaka.” 

“What do you want?” Terasaka asks. 

Karma looks at him. “You tell me,” he says. 

And then he’s shoving the ice pop in his mouth and walking away, humming under his breath as he leaves. Terasaka watches him go. 

He doesn’t know what just happened. And he still doesn’t know what Karma wants from him. 

Perhaps he never has. 

Terasaka opens his bag of shrimp chips and slowly begins eating them as he makes his way home. He can figure this out later. 

It started a year after graduation—exactly a year after that octopus’s death, if Terasaka was counting (he wasn’t. Or at least, he pretended he wasn’t. Easier to blame his knowing on his classmates). He’d been looking in his old desk, now dusty from disuse, and Karma had been there too, hands tucked in his pockets, lazily leaning against the back wall. 

“Looking for something, Terasaka?” Karma asks him. He’s playing with a Swiss army knife, flicking open all sorts of useful tools before hastily shutting them once more. 

Terasaka pulls his hand out of his desk. “There’s nothing here but memories,” he replies sourly. “It doesn’t matter.” 

Karma just looks at him, one eyebrow arched in mock surprise. 

“It doesn’t,” Terasaka insists.

“Ehhhh?” Karma asks, in that infuriating manner of his. He smiles, then pushes himself off of the wall. “Then why were you looking?” 

Terasaka scowls. “Shut up.” 

“Clever.” Karma pockets his knife, then steps close to Terasaka, invading his space. “Man, you really haven’t changed.” 

“Neither have you,” Terasaka bites out. He takes a step back, but of course Karma’s blocked him so that he bumps into his desk anyways. Fucking Karma. 

Karma smiles. “Still directionless?” 

“I hate you,” Terasaka tells him, and is about to push past him when Karma presses forward, leaning into Terasaka’s space and forcing him to lean back on the desk. 

“I don’t think you do,” Karma says. “Isn’t that what we spent the year together establishing?” His smile vanishes. “And then we graduated.” 

“That was always going to happen, Karma,” Terasaka tells him. 

“Oh, so was you ignoring me for a year also supposed to happen?” Karma asks. 

Terasaka holds his gaze. “Yes.” 

“You know, Terasaka,” Karma says, leaning even closer, his breath warm on Terasaka’s cheek. “It’s not like you completely ignored me…you just never initiated.” A smile slowly crosses his face. “So…here’s your chance. Make a decision, Terasaka.” 

Karma is grinning, mercury eyes focused on him, a smug smile on his face. Terasaka hates that smile; has wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid smile off of Karma’s face. Even in junior high, with assassination and a deadline and something resembling teamwork more than anything, Terasaka had wanted to get rid of that smile. 

He still isn’t thinking when he presses his mouth onto Karma’s. 

As far as kisses go, it’s nothing special. There’s no tongue, no open mouths, none of that fancy stuff that Bitch-sensei taught them. It’s short and it’s over quickly, with Terasaka pulling back almost as fast as he had leaned in. 

Karma doesn’t say anything, just looks at him, his mercury eyes boring holes in Terasaka’s skull. 

“I…forget it,” Terasaka mutters, and he finally pushes Karma off of him. “The others are probably starting to wonder what happened to us.” 

“Terasaka,” Karma says, and Terasaka scowls. 

“What?” 

“Did Bitch-sensei teach you nothing?” Karma asks. “That was terrible.” 

Of all the things Karma could possibly have said, Terasaka was not expecting…well, that. 

(In hindsight, Terasaka thinks that line was a very Karma thing to say). 

“Like I said, forget it!” He snaps, looking anywhere but at Karma. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“Here, I’ll show you how it’s done,” Karma says, and suddenly his hands are on Terasaka’s face, forcing him to actually look at him, and then he’s pressing his lips on Terasaka’s. 

Karma’s mouth is warm and his lips are soft, and, honestly (as expected of him) Karma is also incredibly skilled with his tongue. He moves fast, scoping out Terasaka’s mouth like it’s the last thing he’ll do (just like Bitch-sensei taught them, Terasaka thinks numbly), before he pulls away, that same smug grin on his face. 

“See?” Karma says. “Like that.” 

Terasaka scowls. “I didn’t forget,” he snaps. “Jeez.” 

Karma laughs. “Well, I’m going back outside,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But I’ll see you around, Terasaka.” 

He walks out of the classroom, but before he slides the door shut, he throws Terasaka a wink. 

“Don’t think about it too hard!” Karma calls, and then he shuts the door, and his stupid face is gone and Terasaka is left standing in the old 3-E classroom, wondering what the hell even happened. 

Unbidden, he touches his lips, the ghost of Karma’s mouth still lingering, and wonders if it held any meaning. 

Terasaka scowls, kicking at a stray rock in his path. He’s not a mind-reader, how is he supposed to know what Karma wants? What does he even mean by that “you tell me” crap? That’s not how they worked; it was always Karma bothering, pestering, ordering, demanding things from Terasaka. Karma texted first; Karma gave the orders; Terasaka simply followed his lead. 

Now he has to figure out what _Karma_ wants? 

And Karma had even told him not to think about that moment, so it’s not like Terasaka was stupid for not thinking about it. It was just a kiss. It meant nothing. Bitch-sensei had had them kissing a lot. 

…Bitch-sensei was always a little weird. 

Terasaka scowls and shoves a chip in his mouth. So, what, exactly, does Karma want from him? And how is he supposed to figure it out? 

The night air is warm on his skin. Terasaka sits outside, a glass of water in his hand, too many thoughts swirling in his head to properly sleep. He can still see Nagisa’s rage, can still feel Nagisa’s hurt, can still hear Nagisa’s words of hate towards Takaoka. 

If he were betting on who could ultimately kill Koro-sensei, his money would be on Nagisa. 

A while ago, that thought would have bothered him. Now, even with only one semester under his belt, he thinks that there’s no one else he’d rather have do the deed. 

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Karma’s voice floats overhead, an arrogant lazy drawl that Terasaka normally hates. 

Key word: normally. Right now, though, he’s just grateful that they’re alive, and not even Karma’s stupid, annoying, cocky voice will not bring down Terasaka’s mood. 

“Could say the same about you,” he replies. 

“I’m pretty sure Bitch-sensei, Karasuma, and Koro-sensei all ordered you to sleep.” 

“They can yell all they like,” Terasaka says, wincing slightly at the memory. All three adults had been _pissed_ that he’d gone to the hotel in spite of being sick. 

Even Koro-sensei had been kind of terrifying, and he was trapped in a sphere. 

“But I can’t sleep,” he finishes. And it’s true. No amount of glares from his teachers are going to magically make him fall asleep. He’s too buzzed on adrenaline to sleep. 

Karma hums a little at that, and then next thing Terasaka knows, Karma’s dropping down next to him, graceful as always. 

“You should take care of yourself,” Karma says, parroting Koro-sensei’s words from earlier, even mimicking his voice tone a little. 

“It’s not like I died,” Terasaka grumbles. He’s had enough of his classmates (and teachers) fussing over him. Just because he drank a little poison (virus, whatever) doesn’t mean that he’s suddenly going to pass out. He’s strong! He could still help, and help he did. 

Besides, he owes it to his classmates, after that stunt with Itona nearly got them all killed. It’s the least he can do. 

They didn’t shun him, even after he nearly killed them. How could he possibly let them all die? 

“I still can’t believe you went to help us even though you were sick,” Karma says, breaking Terasaka from his thoughts. “That was either incredibly stupid or incredibly brave.” 

“It was fine in the end,” Terasaka replies, waving his hand. It feels like he’s been saying that a lot. Probably because people won’t stop fussing over him (seriously, he’s fine). “The drug wasn’t even lethal.” 

“Still.” Karma glares at him. “You’re really, really stupid.” 

Terasaka flashes him a grin. “But I’m alive, aren’t I?” 

Karma snorts. “How am I supposed to use you if you die after one semester?” 

“That’s a funny way of saying you care,” Terasaka jabs. 

Karma’s full-on scowling now, his brows furrowed, his eyes dark, mouth twisted into an ugly frown. He looks ready to punch something, or rather someone (and that someone would be Terasaka himself). Terasaka sighs and tries to figure out how to smooth out the expression on Karma’s face. 

“Relax. I’m not going anywhere, promise.” Judging from the way Karma still doesn’t look impressed or settled, he’s still not off the hook. Terasaka thinks for a moment, then adds, “Besides, I told you: I can take a hit.” 

“Itona’s one thing; poison is another,” Karma snaps, but his brow relaxes a little, and he looks less ready to punch something. 

“Is it?” Terasaka laughs. “Cause I could’ve swore both of those had the instinct to kill. Itona and the poison.” 

“The drug wasn’t even lethal,” Karma parrots, in a shoddy imitation of his voice. “Idiot.” 

“Hey, I helped save our asses back there,” Terasaka snaps. “And I do not sound like that.” 

Karma rolls his eyes. “I also helped. Remember Grip?” 

As if Terasaka could ever forget the fact that Karma thought it would be fun to torture a professional assassin. 

Karma barrels on, his face relaxing (finally) as he leans back to look up at the stars. “We’re a team. And we can’t afford to lose any members.” He punctuates his statement with a long stare. His eyes are full of an unspoken something, and the wind ruffles the ends of his red hair. 

~~ He’s beautiful like that.  ~~

Terasaka has no idea what that look means, or what Karma could possibly want from him. 

“Don’t look at me like that; I won’t get your meaning. You’ll have to spell it out for me,” Terasaka says after the silence has stretched out for too long. “Class idiot, remember?” 

Karma looks away with a shake of his head and sigh. “I’m going to bed,” he mutters, rising. “You should too.” 

Terasaka nods, before remembering that Karma’s not looking at him. “Whatever,” he says. 

“Go to sleep, idiot,” Karma replies, not looking back. 

Terasaka watches him go, and tries to figure out why Karma had looked at him like that.

Terasaka frowns at the chips in his hand. He’s never been the smartest in the room; no, that title really had belonged to Karma. But even so, he can figure out this thing between him and Karma. He can figure out what Karma’s wordlessly demanding from him. If Karma thinks he can, then he can. 

But what does all of it mean? Karma, stupid Karma with his lack of respect for boundaries and his arrogant smile and the way he always pushed into Terasaka’s space to be annoying. 

Terasaka wants to scream. Instead, he looks around to make sure no one’s watching, before he scales the wall and starts running on the rooftops. 

He always feels much freer up here. Maybe a change of scenery will help him process this stupid, complicated thing that Karma has practically dared him to fix. 

The first time that Terasaka felt like he and Karma had some sort of begrudging respect for each other would be the aftermath of the disastrous pool incident with Shiro and Itona (and of course, Terasaka nearly killing his classmates). Karma’s packing up his things and Terasaka’s pretending like he’s still packing. He’d already waved Muramatsu, Yoshida, and Hazama ahead. 

“What do you want?” Karma asks, voice cold and sharp. “I know you’re not packing.” 

“I…thank you,” Terasaka says. “You really saved our asses back there.” 

Karma looks at him for a long moment. Terasaka fidgets under his gaze, worrying, wondering. 

He’s still thinking about Karma’s hand on his torso, and how calculating Karma’s stare could be. It’s unfair, how he can’t get that stupid touch out of his head, how he wants Karma to do it again. 

“Of course,” Karma says finally, drawing Terasaka back to the present. “Don’t do it again. Idiots like you aren’t meant to be thinking about these things.” 

“What does that mean?!” Terasaka demands. 

Karma regards him with a cool gaze. “You said it best yourself, didn’t you? You’re only good as a lackey. So I should be the one who uses you.” His teeth flash as he tilts his head back, still staring right at Terasaka. “I intend to do just that.” 

“I hope you choke,” Terasaka spits out. “We should have drowned you when we had the chance.” 

“Rude!” Karma exclaims, losing some of his cool, collected confidence. “I saved you!” 

“And I gave you your thanks!” Terasaka snaps back. 

Karma pauses, then straightens up and smirks. 

“Now, now, that’s no way to treat your savior,” he practically coos, arrogance dripping from his words. Terasaka wants to punch him. “Weren’t you thanking me a few seconds ago? I want to hear it again, Terasaka.” He leans in close, evil grin still pasted on his face, voice stretching out each syllable of his name. 

Terasaka suddenly feels very, very afraid for his life. 

“I take it back. I hope you die.” Terasaka snatches up his bag and throws it over his shoulder. “Bastard.” 

“That the best you can do?” Karma asks. “Petty insults and empty threats?” 

In lieu of actually responding, Terasaka flips him off and stomps off. 

“I’ll give you your orders tomorrow!” Karma calls. 

“I changed my mind!” Terasaka shouts. “I never want to see you again!” He throws open the classroom door and slams it shut behind him. 

Even though he shut the door, Karma’s smug laughter still follows him out. Terasaka wants to punch something. 

Preferably Karma. 

Laughter bubbles out of him as he runs along the roof tiles, careful but surefooted, even in the dark. There’s always been something so freeing about running, about being in places where he probably shouldn’t. Up here, he feels like a bird, light and free to go wherever he pleases. No one can hold him down. 

That, perhaps, was always the best part of the assassination classroom, in the end. It was the freedom to be an idiot, the freedom to do stupid things and watch the stunts pay off. Yes, he may have hated that octopus at first, and despised everyone who bowed down to him, but…they’d had fun. 

So much fun. 

Ironically, it’s Karma’s smile—not his devious evil one, but the real, soft one he reserves for people he cares about—that flashes in his mind, and he skids to a halt. 

There’s an incessant pounding on his door. Terasaka scowls but stomps over to the entrance, already trying to guess who the visitor could be. It won’t be Itona; he’s currently staying with Karasuma while they get him settled in a new apartment. Hazama hasn’t spoken to anyone, whether in the group chat or privately for the past two days, so it’s unlikely to be her. Muramatsu or Yoshida, then, and Muramatsu is the only one likely to pound on his door like that.

“You better have brought ramen,” he snaps as he slides open the door. 

“Eh?” Karma asks. “Why?” 

“You’re not Muramatsu,” Terasaka says dumbly, staring at the soaked red-head. 

Even though he’s water-logged and his nose is red and probably running, Karma scoffs with all the arrogance that comes with being the smartest person in the room. “I should hope not,” he replies. “Are you going to let me in or not? I texted you, but you didn’t respond.” 

“Phone’s dead.” That’s a lie, but Karma doesn’t need to know that. Terasaka just hadn’t felt like texting anyone. Even so, Terasaka pulls open the door and shuffles out of the way. If it’s Karma, perhaps the company won’t be too bad. “Why are you here?” 

“Wanted to make sure you weren’t doing anything stupid,” Karma says as he takes off his shoes. Water drips down his face and onto the floor. Terasaka sighs internally. 

“I’ll get you a towel,” he mutters awkwardly, and slips off to grab one. 

Why was Karma in his house? What brought Karma here? Terasaka scowls as he snatches up a towel. Stupid Karma, showing up out of no where, acting like he…he…

Terasaka sighs. It doesn’t matter, he thinks. 

“Here,” he says, handing the towel to Karma, who’s still dripping in the entrance. “Why didn’t you bring an umbrella? Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one?” 

“Funny.” Karma wipes off his hair and his face. “It wasn’t raining when I left.” 

“You got on me for not checking my messages, but you couldn’t check the forecast?” 

“Shut up.” Karma looks miserable, all bedraggled and soaked. His clothes cling to him, and red strands are plastered to his face. He looks nothing like the lazy bastard that Terasaka knows and hates. “I was visiting Rio first.” 

“And then you came here?” Terasaka snorts. “To get out of the rain?” 

“Well, yeah.” Karma wraps the towel around himself and steps into the house, murmuring a customary “pardon the intrusion” as he does. “You’re close enough.” 

Terasaka hums at that. “Do you want…tea?” 

“Huh?” Karma looks surprised. “Are you being a host?” 

“Well, it’s my house,” he grumbles. “And we’re friends.” Wait, what? Since when? 

“Oh, so you do care~” Karma’s mouth tilts into his typical infuriating smirk, and there’s an evil gleam in those golden eyes of his. “Terasaka, Terasaka. Who would have thought?” 

“I changed my mind,” Terasaka snaps. “Get out.” 

“What? No, come on, I wanna see you play the part of a dutiful host,” Karma says. “Besides, you wouldn’t throw me out in the rain, would you?” 

“I hope you drown,” Terasaka replies, pointing at the door. “Get out.” 

“Oh, come on!” Karma glares at him. “What happened to us being friends?” 

“I never said you could visit,” he retorts. 

Karma whips the towel off his shoulders and smacks Terasaka in the face with it. “Make me tea.” 

“Fine.” 

“Good.” Karma scowls at nothing, and Terasaka sighs as he stomps over to the kitchen to make tea.

He’s filled the kettle with water and is grabbing two cups when Karma makes his way into the kitchen, looking around with the same intensity that he uses to gauge his surroundings. Bastard. Knowing Karma, he’s probably drawn at least five different conclusions and two theories about Terasaka just from the apartment alone. 

Curse him. 

“What kind do you want?” Terasaka asks. 

Karma blinks. The towel’s still draped over his shoulders; a stray water droplet drips off his hair. He looks almost confused. 

“…whatever you have is fine,” Karma says. 

“Hope you like oolong, then,” he replies.

Karma nods. Then he says softly, “Thanks.” 

Terasaka shrugs. “I’m not heartless, you know.” 

Karma smiles then. “Could’ve fooled me,” he replies. “Who nearly got all of our classmates killed, again?” 

“Kayano nearly did the same thing!” He snaps, and a genuine laugh breaks out of Karma’s mouth at that. His grin stretches wider, nothing like his usual arrogant smirk, but rather one of happiness and delight, one that Terasaka has only seen from far away, when Karma is with Nagisa or Rio. 

He’s beautiful, Terasaka thinks, and then Karma’s opening his mouth and saying something. 

“Kayano’s a way cuter killer than you though,” Karma says cheekily. “I’d let her kill me any day. Your ugly mug would just make me depressed.” 

“That’s horrible, and I hope you choke,” Terasaka replies. Even so, he grabs two tea cups and fills them up. “You’re a terrible person, has anyone told you that recently?” 

Karma just laughs, but he reaches to take the teacup from Terasaka, and if their fingers brush when he grabs it, well, Terasaka isn’t going to question it. 

Terasaka sighs as his feet his the solid ground. He’s almost home, and conveniently, almost out of chips. 

He still can’t believe that Karma bought him chips. 

“What game are you playing at, Akabane?” He mutters angrily. 

There’s no response. Of course there’s not. Terasaka’s the idiot talking to himself, after all. 

He runs a hand through his hair. Oh, how he desperately wishes Itona or Hazama or Yoshida or Muramatsu were here. Itona even had the audacity to ditch him. 

But it would be easier if they were here. They’d have some advice for him. Or, if not, it would be nice to listen to their thoughts. 

Terasaka scowls and puts a chip in his mouth, wishing he could go slide into Muramatsu’s awful ramen shop and eat some crappy food and…

And. 

Oh. 

Two weeks after the one-year anniversary, and he hasn’t been able to get the feeling of Karma’s lips out of his mind. He swears that he can still feel their warmth, still swears that his mouth feels empty without Karma’s tongue in it (that’s disgusting, the rational part of his brain says). 

“I got everyone’s orders!” Muramatsu says, pulling Terasaka out of his thoughts as he sets down bowls of ramen for everyone. Five bowls of ramen…Terasaka has no idea how Muramatsu can even manage that. Muramatsu then pulls off his apron and slides in next to Yoshida. “And I’m now on break. So. What’s up? How are you all?” 

Hazama scowls at her ramen. “You’re too cheerful.” 

“And you’re literally dating the Kurahashi, the personification of sunshine herself,” Muramatsu responds. “So try again. How are you people?” 

“You people…how polite,” Itona says lazily. He’s already shoved some of the ramen in his mouth. “Great manners.” 

“Says the one talking with his mouth full,” Yoshida jabs. 

“Yeah, but we’re heathens,” Muramatsu reminds them. “That’s kind of our thing.” 

“Suit yourselves,” Hazama says airily. “But _I_ have a girlfriend, unlike you bozos.” 

“We get it, you’re gay,” Itona replies. He punctuates his sentence with a slurp, then sets down his chopsticks and delicately pats his mouth with a napkin. “But heathens can get girlfriends, too.” 

“I’m gay,” Terasaka blurts out. He doesn’t know why, but he needs to say it. 

The table falls silent, and all of his friends turn to him. 

“What?” Terasaka asks, fidgeting under their gazes. “Hazama’s gay.” 

Hazama bursts into laughter. “I knew it,” she cackles. “I knew there was no way I’d befriended four straight men.” 

“Rude,” Yoshida says. “I’m great company, thank you very much.” 

“You’re really not,” Muramatsu tells him. “But okay, Terasaka. So what’s up? Some boy got your attention?” 

“What? No.” Okay, that’s a lie. But they don’t need to know that. “Just thought I’d spit it out.” 

“Hm.” Itona puts more ramen in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “I don’t really care. You do you.” 

“…supportive,” Terasaka remarks drily. 

Hazama offers her fist for Terasaka, and he willingly bumps it. “Congratulations,” she says. “It’s nice to know I’m not the only gay around here.” 

Terasaka shrugs. “Even if you were, we’d never get rid of you.” 

“And even if I was the only lesbian, I wouldn’t shun you either,” Hazama replies. 

“That’s so soft, but we have reputations,” Muramatsu interjects. “We’re supposed to be cool and stuff.” 

“None of you have ever been even remotely cool,” Itona says. “Except me.” 

“You’re literally the wimpiest here,” Terasaka tells him. 

Itona looks up from his ramen, finally, and pins his gaze on Terasaka. “Two words,” he says flatly, holding up two fingers. “Akabane—” 

“DO NOT.” Terasaka shoves his hand over Itona’s mouth. “I will kill you.” 

Itona licks his palm. Terasaka doesn’t budge. 

“Akabane?” Yoshida asks. 

Hazama groans and facepalms. “Akabane.” 

Muramatsu blinks. “Akabane…Karma.” 

Terasaka releases Itona and drops his head in his hands. “Shut up.” 

“Karma, really?” Muramatsu asks. “You could go for like…Kimura.” 

“Maehara exists.” That’s Yoshida’s helpful suggestion.

“Isogai also exists, and he’s nice,” Muramatsu shoots back. 

“I don’t know what men are,” Hazama says. 

Itona shrugs. “I mean, he always had Karma next to him in class. You should’ve heard them whisper fight.” 

“Shut up,” Terasaka repeats, staring down at the wooden table. “There is nothing between me and Karma.” 

Except, you know, those two kisses you swapped in your old classroom, his brain whispers to him. 

Yeah. He’s not telling them about those at all. Hazama had told them when she and Kurahashi had finally kissed, and Yoshida and Muramatsu (and, okay, fine, him as well) had given her grief about it for the rest of their hang-out. There’s no way he’s giving them ammunition like this. 

Itona snickers. “But you want there to be.” 

“I will destroy your bloodline.” 

“What did Karma always say?” Muramatsu asks, a smug grin on his face. 

“Oh yeah,” Yoshida continues, picking up Muramatsu’s thread. “If you want to kill someone…” 

“You should actually do it,” Hazama finishes. She twirls her chopsticks idly between her fingers. 

“I mean, we’d help you hide a body if you needed,” Itona says. 

“He literally just threatened you!” Muramatsu exclaims. “And you would help him hide a body?!” 

“Yeah,” Itona says. “I mean, you all are so annoying that sometimes I want to kill you too.”

“Oh, thanks,” Yoshida grumbles. “Real charmer we got. No wonder Hazama is the only one with a girlfriend.” 

“Yes, I’m the coolest one here,” Hazama cuts in, shooting her chopstick straight onto the center of the table. The chopstick wobbles around on its end, but Hazama snatches it back up before it can properly fall. “Back to the topic…Akabane Karma, huh?” 

Terasaka sighs. “It doesn’t matter,” he says flatly. “Can you all shut up now?” 

“Sure,” Muramatsu says easily. “But we know you’re lying, dude. You guys definitely kissed.” 

Terasaka feels his blood freeze. “Wh-what?” 

“So I was right?” Muramatsu crows. “I wasn’t sure!” 

“Muramatsu,” Terasaka says, cracking his knuckles. “Shut. The fuck. Up.” 

Muramatsu just snickers, and Hazama offers him a high-five. 

Terasaka waves his chopsticks threateningly. Muramatsu just laughs. 

“You can’t do anything,” he says. “It’s my restaurant.” 

“I hate you all,” Terasaka replies. 

Yoshida sighs. “Fine. If we can’t talk about Terasaka’s love life, who’s do we talk about?” 

“We could make fun of your crush on Hara, again,” Itona suggests. 

“Oh, fuck you guys,” Yoshida says, and Terasaka finally takes a bite of his ramen. “Let’s go back to bullying Terasaka for liking Karma.” 

“Oi!” 

Terasaka stops. Oh. 

It’s _always_ been Karma, hasn’t it? 

When was there ever anyone else? 

And for Karma…

Maybe he felt the same way? Maybe, between the mocking smiles and the taunting, there was something lurking underneath all of it? 

There’s only one way to find out, and Terasaka’s never been one to beat around the bush. 

He pulls out his phone. Sends a text (and ignores the multitude of text conversations that he and Karma had shared, countless times, almost every night without fail. How embarrassing. Terasaka can’t believe he let it get that bad). Tosses out the empty chip bag and stretches his arms and legs for a quick minute. 

Then he takes off. 

He really hopes that he won’t regret it (but there’s only one possible answer, right?). 

Karma’s waiting for him on the road, just outside his house. 

“If you want something from me,” Terasaka says, leaning over to catch his breath, “Then next time, just say it, okay?” 

“What?” Karma raises an eyebrow. “You’re the one who called me out here.” 

“You heard me.” Terasaka lifts his head, looks Karma in the eye. “I’m not a mind reader. I’m the class idiot, remember? You do the talking, the directing, I just…follow your lead.” 

Karma tilts his head. Shoves his hands in his pockets. “Is that all you called me here for?” He asks. “Because I have homework to be doing.” 

“No,” say Terasaka. He thinks of countless stupid texts sent over the past year, with dumb pictures captioned “you” and rude insults traded back and forth until they became inside jokes. He thinks of throwing things at Karma when Koro-sensei wasn’t looking; he thinks of Karma making decisions and creating plans and always making sure that no one got hurt; he thinks of the way he and Karma traded jabs and the way his hair looked when it was plastered to his face and how Karma stared at him whenever there was something he wanted to say but didn’t want to admit to it. 

How could he have missed all that? 

“Wanted to do this,” he says, and then he’s pushing Karma against the wall and kissing him, properly this time. 

Karma gasps and Terasaka delights in making Karma lose his composure for once. He moves fast, licking into Karma’s mouth and grinning against his lips when he hears another tiny gasp from Karma. Karma’s hands slide around his waist; Terasaka runs his hands through Karma’s hair. The kiss is warm and fierce and a little bit messy but Terasaka wouldn’t change it for anything. 

Karma breaks away first. “S-stop,” he says, chest heaving, cheeks flushed, eyes wide (for once. Terasaka loves that face). “Damn. Last time we tried that, you were terrible.” 

Terasaka grins. “Told you I hadn’t forgotten what Bitch-sensei taught us.” 

Karma snickers. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Terasaka says. “So. Was I right? Is that what you wanted?” 

Karma smiles, unspoken promises gleaming in his eyes. “I don’t know. What makes you think that I would want to kiss you?” 

Terasaka snorts, but pulls away (and tries not to let it get to him, after all, there was always a chance that he’d be, well, wrong). “Okay, okay, I’ll just go,” he says, looking away. “See you at the next anniversary, I guess.” 

Karma still moves lightening-fast, a predator determined to catch his prey. Next thing Terasaka knows, Karma’s got his hands on Terasaka’s shirt and he’s maneuvered them so that Terasaka’s now the one against the wall. 

“Stop playing dumb, Terasaka,” Karma says lowly, leaning in close, his breath fanning over Terasaka’s face. “Kiss me once more—like you mean it, not any of that light chaste crap that you pulled last time—and then I’ll tell you.” 

Terasaka smirks. “So I was right.” 

Karma smiles back. “Perhaps,” he says. “But I’ll tell you after this.” His lips find Terasaka’s once more, and he’s warm and solid under Terasaka’s hands, and Terasaka finally—finally—knows what Karma wants from him.

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact: the file name for this is "karma/terasaka lmaooooo" bc i re-watched assclass and went "what if i wrote terasaka/karma...haha jk...unless?" and so here we are. 
> 
> it's been a year since i last wrote for assclass, and even longer since i wrote assclass fic that wasn't hazama/kurahashi (i've written six other things for assclass and only one of those is not hazama/kurahashi). yes i established that hazama/kurahashi are dating here, but that's bc they're adorable and i love them and also i'm steering that ship, so you know. priorities. 
> 
> i feel like i'm probably steering karmasaka too, but u know what? who cares, all i do is write rarepairs for assclass; my contributions to this fandom has pretty much only been rarepairs. 
> 
> and of course i had to include terasaka's gang,,,i love their friendship and they have become a crucial part in my works,,,there needs to be at least one scene in my fics ft the gang eating ramen at muramatsu's place and talking about stupid shit,,,
> 
> alright, enough rambling. thank u so much for reading! i had fun writing this and i hope u enjoyed it too! please leave kudos and comments; i'd really appreciate it~~


End file.
